Jan Burke - Dear Irene

“J. D. Anderson,” she said.

“The president of Mercury Aircraft?” Frank asked. “What did he have to do with it?”

“Rumors were, Maggie was J.D.’s mistress. For all her other faults – and believe me, you don’t want to sit here while I name them – Maggie was stunningly beautiful.”

I shook my head. “I still don’t understand how that could allow her-”

“To adopt Jimmy? Irene Kelly, you surprise me. At that time, J.D. was one of the most powerful individuals in the Los Angeles area. And while you may believe there is corruption now, back then, things were absolutely rotten. Didn’t Mr. O’Connor ever tell you about what it was like then?”

“Well, yes, but a child-”

“ Especially a child. Surely you can see that even now, children have little say over what becomes of them. They’re at the mercy of adults. Adoption has changed now, not so much because of the law, but because of supply and demand, if you will. Abortion rights changed the supply. Back then – remember the recent revelations about the judge who made a small fortune from adoption? She ordered babies removed from their parents’ custody and then accepted payment to place the children with wealthy clients.”

“Wasn’t there anyone who spoke up for him?”

She wrung her hands together. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but no, I didn’t. Maggie wasn’t working at Mercury by then, but we all knew she was J.D.’s kept woman. The rumor I heard was that he had pulled all the strings himself, had even fixed it so that if anybody went looking for Jimmy’s records, they wouldn’t find a thing. As if the kid didn’t exist before he was adopted.”

She paused, then continued in a much lower voice. “The war was over, and lots of women had lost their jobs. At the time, I was the sole source of support for my son. I had never worked before the war. Not as a teacher or a nurse, not even as a waitress. If I lost my job at Mercury, I didn’t have a thing to fall back on. If it had just been me, well, maybe I would have spoken up. But I had Howie to think of, and I stayed silent.”

“I appreciate your telling us now,” Frank said. “You’ve saved me a lot of effort. I’ll have a better idea of how to look for him now. Did you ever see Maggie Robinson after the war?”

“Yes, once I saw her here in town, at a store during a Christmas sale. Must have been two or three years after the war. She seemed quite nervous about the encounter. She tried to avoid me, truth be told. I sort of pushed my way over to her and asked about Jimmy. She looked furious, but she said she didn’t know any Jimmy, and I must have mistaken her for someone else. Then she managed to disappear into the crowd. I never did like that woman.”

“Do you know Hobson Devoe?” I asked.

“Yes, the former head of personnel. I understand he runs the museum out there now.”

“Would he have known about Maggie?”

She frowned. “I’m not certain, of course, but I’d tend to doubt it. Mr. Devoe has always been very active in his church. The other men used to call him ‘The Boy Scout.’ Treated him as something of an innocent – or perhaps I should say, they treated him as if he were prudish. They didn’t tell dirty jokes around him, or use foul language, so I’m sure they didn’t discuss J.D.’s mistresses – according to rumor, J.D. had several. Maggie was certainly not the only one who let J.D. sample her wares, although she was apparently a favorite over many years. I just don’t know. Hobson was a straight arrow, but he wasn’t naive or unable to get what he wanted in the corporation.”

We talked for a few more minutes, then thanked her and said our good-byes. As we went down the sidewalk, she shouted out to Frank from her front porch. “You be good to her, Detective Harriman, or you’ll answer to me.”

We waved and drove off.

On the way home, I told Detective Harriman that he had indeed been good to me, and started to list off some possible rewards. He was looking forward to them, but it wasn’t to be. When we pulled up in his driveway, we noticed a car parked out in front of the house. A woman was sitting in it.

Frank’s mother had decided to surprise us with a visit.

FORTUNATELY, BEA HARRIMAN hadn’t been waiting long. Unfortunately, Frank and I had spent that morning arguing, not housekeeping. The place wasn’t a wreck, but it wasn’t what I wanted it to look like when my future mother-in-law stopped by for her first inspection tour. Although she had been inside Frank’s house several other times, this was her first visit since the dawn of our cohabitation.

I was nervous when we opened the front door, but my fears about her reaction to the house were unfounded, it seemed. She was full of leftover Christmas goodwill and quite pleased with herself for surprising us. As we made our way down the hall, she happily commented on the fact that this was the first time she had seen me out of my casts. She even turned a blind eye to the pile of dishes in the sink.

She was startled to see two big, barking dogs in the backyard. Cody, not to be outdone, bit Frank on the ankle and then ran around like Beelzebub was after him, knocking books and papers to the floor in his wake. The pandemonium was raised to a new pitch by the ringing of the telephone.

Home sweet home.

Frank took over the task of carrying his mom’s packages, taking her coat and getting her settled in the guest room. I tried to get the dogs to be quiet. “Shush!” I shouted to them as I picked up the phone.

“What?” the voice on the other end said.

“Oh, not you, Steven. The dogs. They’re raising Cain. Hang on just a minute.”

I opened the door a crack, intending to get them to settle down. They bowled me over and ran over to Frank’s mother, who was still remarkably calm about the whole situation. She petted the dogs, who were giving her a sniffing over and an enthusiastic greeting all at once.

“What are their names?” she asked.

“They don’t have names yet. I think we’re narrowing it down between Frick and Frack or Yes and No. If it’s Yes and No, we might rent them out to spiritualist parties.” She looked at me as if I might be serious.

“Who’s on the phone?” Frank called from our small spare bedroom.

“Steven,” I answered, going back to the receiver.

“I vote for Yes and No,” Steven said. “Otherwise, you’ll have Frick, Frack, and Frank, and that could get confusing.”

“So would saying, ‘No, Yes,’ if Yes misbehaved. Frank thought we should give them mixed-up Western names. Since Cody is a cross between Wild Bill Hickok and Buffalo Bill Cody, maybe we could have Buffalo Hickok and Calamity Annie Oakley.”

“You lost me. Besides, too hard to say. Although Calamity isn’t a bad name, from what you’ve told me about your dogs.”

“Hang on again, Steven. Now the doorbell’s ringing.”

The dogs were barking again and got to the front door before I did. “What’s wrong with you mutts?” I heard a voice call from the other side of the door. They immediately settled down into anxious whines. Not to be fooled by this, I grabbed on to their collars.

“Come on in, Jack,” I shouted.

He opened the door and stepped in. The dogs sat prettily and were quite well-behaved for him. “If I had known you could have this effect on them, I would have made sure you were here when we walked in tonight. They’ve been candidates for the banana ranch.”

Frank stepped out into the hallway and invited Jack back to meet his mom. I could tell that it took everything in her power to control her initial reaction to him, taking in his scarred face and shaved head, his earring and tattoos. But Jack has an ability to make almost anybody like him, so Frank and I no longer worry over people’s first reactions to his appearance. I headed back to the phone.